


Floating Flowers

by BlueandBronze



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Or at least his maybe death, POV Tinker, as far as I know so far anyway, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 04:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20040247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueandBronze/pseuds/BlueandBronze
Summary: Tinker was left behind. He can’t help but worry.*EDIT*Wrote this before the release of season three, so before I knew "Tinker's" real name :)





	Floating Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, I watched the dragon prince recently, and immediately have been reading so much meta about tinker, and now this has happened XD Enjoy!

**Floating Flowers**

He was called Tinker. It wasn’t his real name, and honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure who had decided on it, but at some point it seemed to have stuck. And he couldn’t deny that it fit. He was after all, always tinkering with something or other. Crafting new things, shaping the metal, carving the wood, spinning the glass, weaving them with enchantments, until the air in his workshop glittered from the magic. 

The paired necklaces, those he was particularly proud of. 

He had tried to be casual as he gifted them away, knowing how it was less likely to be used if it was known how much effort had gone into them. The idea had struck him suddenly, and Runaan had struggled to pull him from his workshop for days as he worked on them, both identical. The stones had been filled with enchantment, swirling inside, and were the perfect mix of breakability, yet also being sturdy as well. He had spent so long on them, and he was certain it would be worth it. They would help, even when he couldn’t. They were protection, as well as a promise. 

Runaan had accepted it gladly, not long before he was to set out on his mission. 

Tinker had watched him leave, the pendant clearly visible, glowing a gentle shade of purple. He would return. He had to. Tinker had done all he could. 

Every day he would go to the pool. The pool was very different to his usual magic, but again, the idea had arrived, and he had immediately set to work. The flowers, small water roses, floated gently on the surface, brightly in bloom. He smiled at it, before setting out to his workshop to work on his latest idea. 

He couldn’t spend all day worrying, there was work to be done. He would work each day, he did his work well, but he could never quite stop the worry. He visited the pool as often as he could, and each day that the flowers floated, cheerfully blooming, he would let out a sigh of relief. Some days, when he had a free moment, he would sit by the pool, and talk to the flower. Perhaps somehow, he would know, perhaps he could hear. Tinker knew it was illogical, he had cast the enchantments himself after all, but he still found himself just talking. The flower drifted gently in the water, rocked by the small currents of the water. He smiled and carried on. 

That day, he had finished his project. He had been up all night, fixing the small problems, and it was finally done. He hadn’t had the chance to visit the pool, but the moment he was free, he rushed to it. 

“It’s done!” He called, delightedly, “It’s finally done! I can’t wait to show it to you!” He looked at the pool and smiled again, as he sat himself by the water. The flower bobbed a little, as Tinker opened his mouth to carry on, before the blood drained from his face. The small petals began to curl inwards, the colour leaching out, darkening.

No. No. This couldn’t be happening. This was _ wrong _. 

He reached out, slowly, almost involuntarily. It was as if the hand was no longer his, he was watching himself move. The vibrance of life that had infused the flower was gone. 

It sank to the bottom of the pool. 

“No.” This couldn’t happen. It wasn’t possible. 

But it had. 

The flower had sunk. 

There was nothing he could do. 

He was gone. 

  


That was when the tears began.


End file.
